by Mel Teshco
Before she could voice some kind of acknowledgment, he tore the fragile material from her and discarded it to the floor. He tilted her chin up and commanded huskily, “Watch.”
Her pussy clenched at the fierce possessiveness that shone in his stare reflecting back at her. His focus on her…all of her.
“See how perfect we look together?” he asked.
She nodded. She couldn’t argue with that. At least, not until his hands cupped her breasts and he added, “We belong together, baby. Always.”
Chapter Two
‡
Her breath hissed with denial, even as somewhere deep within, a seed of want burst into life.
“Don’t say anything,” he said when she opened her mouth to reject him outright, despite her inner yearnings, or perhaps because of them. “Not yet,” he added gently, though there was steel in his gaze. “Just…think about it.”
Her heart lurched. And for a moment, indecision nipped at all her hard-won years of self-assurance and inner poise with sharp little teeth.
Would becoming his mistress really be so bad?
You know it would.
Being exclusive to one man wouldn’t make her any more important. In fact, aside from losing her other trusted clients, she’d also lose her independence. Her free will. And eventually, his interest.
Leaving her with nothing but a broken heart and shattered self-esteem. She was already an expert in the art of being abandoned by a loved one. And she really didn’t know if she’d be strong enough the next time to pick up the pieces.
“I want you,” he said, his expression intense, passionate. “You know I do. And I’ll do anything to have you, if you’ll let me.”
She should have felt a little fear, a little trepidation. She didn’t. Something thrilling took hold of her insides even before one of his hands dropped to her waist, the other taking hold of his shaft and guiding it forward.
With a harsh grunt, he thrust deep inside her. She cried out, needing this physical connection so bad it hurt. He stroked in and out with a steadily building, relentless rhythm as he added hoarsely, “We’re perfect together.”
She wasn’t about to argue, not while a torrent of sensation was pulling her under and having its wicked way with her. She stared at the reflection of their joined bodies, unable to drag her eyes away.
Her pulse stuttered and soared at the vision of Blaine rocking behind her. She wanted only to drag out the moment, the undeniable thrill of just being with this man. With her breasts swinging and wisps of her hair tumbling free and causing her to look even more wanton than usual, it was a visual turn-on that was as close to decadent as the act itself.
The familiar wonder of an orgasm pressed at her senses. Overwhelming. And yet just out of reach.
Blaine’s brilliant eyes held hers in the mirror as he parted the flesh of her labia with seeking, skillful hands, and deftly massaged the nub of her clit. She sucked in a breath. Then his name spilled from her lips and she shattered hard as pleasure ricocheted through her system, and then shot her to the heights and beyond.
Triumph flashed across Blaine’s face a nanosecond before his head fell back, his jaw clenched tight as his seed pulsed deep.
She had no idea how long they stayed joined with her head slumped back on his chest, his hands cupping her pussy as if he didn’t want to lose their intimate connection. But at some stage, Blaine disengaged from her wet heat and turned her around to lift her into his arms.
She tucked her head close to all his damp, male heat, inhaling the musky scent of his skin infused with the even muskier scent of sex.
With the music an accompanying throb to her still thundering pulse, he carried her up a flight of stairs and threw open a door. A side lamp cast a dull glow over the huge bedroom. Floor-to-ceiling windows revealed faraway views of the Sydney Harbor Bridge and Opera House illuminated by sparkling lights.
The new crimson comforter on his huge four-poster bed made her smile a little. She understood now his desire for her to wear red. Though he wielded plenty of power in the boardroom and beyond, real passion appeared to be something he relished in his private time.
He laid her on the soft-as-a-cloud bed, his expression tender. “Brandy, I wanted to talk to you—”
The insistent chime of his cell phone claimed his attention. His face tightened, lips pressed into a line. Releasing a breath, he pressed a kiss to her brow and murmured, “I’d better answer. It must be important.” He smiled. “Don’t go anywhere, hmm?”
Before she could reply, he’d already swung away from her. She blinked. He’d been about to say something important, she was damn well certain of it. Whether it was something she actually wanted to hear, she might not ever find out now.
Switching the music off with a remote, he retrieved the cell from his bedside table. “Blaine Waymann,” he said tersely.
Heading toward his bedroom balcony, he pushed open the sliding glass door and stepped outside. A cool breeze caressed her body and filtered his voice her way. “Sam, this’d better be goddamned important. When I said I didn’t want any interruptions…”
Brandy frowned as his voice trailed off. She could only assume Sam was his PA, or someone who handled his day-to-day business dealings. But why didn’t Blaine want to be disturbed? He was a renowned business shark, an entrepreneur and prolific money maker. Surely one night with her wasn’t more important than the thrill of wheeling and dealing?
She wasn’t sure how long she laid on his bed, mulling over the implications of her thoughts, before Blaine returned, his expression tense. He rubbed the back of his neck, then looked her way. His hand dropped and a smile curved his lips. “How did I ever believe I’d get you out of my system?” he murmured. He leaned over the bed, his mouth capturing hers in a gentle kiss.
Her breath caught in her throat and yearning stirred once again in her belly before he pulled back and informed her, “That was my secretary, calling to remind me about a charity fundraiser I’m attending Saturday night. I know it’s short notice, but I’d love for you to come with me.”
She frowned. He looked so serious, his eyes searching hers as though he wanted to decipher her every thought. She swallowed past a suddenly dry throat, aware something between them tonight had taken a major leap and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do to stop it. “This Saturday?” At his nod she shook her head. She was booked two months in advance. Changing her schedule with two days to spare wasn’t possible. “Sorry, I can’t.”
Something glinted in his eyes, something dark, dangerous. “Whatever your client is paying, I’ll triple it.”
She pushed herself up onto her elbows. She’d learned long ago not to back down on the important stuff, and this was monumentally important. This was her future. “It’s not about the money.”
He straightened, his face unreadable, though a flash of skepticism lit tellingly in his stare. Then he nodded, striding toward a walk-in closet before returning with a pile of his clothes in hand. He shrugged into a white business shirt. “Stay the night,” he suggested softly. Yet his every word screamed a seriousness that underlined their mutual sexual relationship really had gone beyond the point of a business transaction. “Sleep here. I need to sort out some business merger issues. When I get back, we’ll talk.”
And finish what he’d been about to tell her before his cell phone conversation? She didn’t argue, didn’t agree either. In his mind, it was all settled. As a high-powered businessman, he was used to being obeyed. But something shriveled inside her, even as a great, aching sadness filled her, while she watched him dress.
He slung a tie around his throat and she stood, with practiced hands, slipping it behind his collar before knotting it just how he liked it. She should know. She’d had plenty of practice unknotting his ties.
He lifted a hand, the back of his knuckles brushing across her jaw. A lingering touch. “Thanks, Brandy…Kate.”
He didn’t seem to notice her shocked intake of breath. Didn’t seem to realize hi
s obvious investigating into her past was the final straw.
He retrieved his cell phone before he turned to her and gathered her stiff body to him for a brief, tender kiss. “Sweet dreams, baby. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
And you won’t find me here.
Hot tears spilled down her face as she listened to the muffled thud of his footsteps retreating downstairs and through the ground floor of his home. The front door slammed, followed soon after by the faint clunk of his car door. Then the Porsche’s engine thrummed to life in the driveway.
Only when the sound of its motor had long dissolved into the distance did she swipe away her tears. She’d never slept a whole night in a client’s bed—because that was all he was, a client—and she wasn’t about to start now.
She was too professional to let business mix with her personal life.
Resolve steeled her spine as she made her way down the staircase and into the entertainment room. Blaine expected her to throw away her whole future on the off chance he’d want her as his mistress for longer than a few months. Because that was all it would take for their semi-permanent living arrangement to start to pall, surely?
Better to cut all ties now rather than later, when things could only get more complicated and messy.
The flames in the glass-domed fireplace had died down to little more than glowing embers when she retrieved her dress and slipped it back on, her fingers unsteady as she drew up the zipper.
She glanced at her ripped-beyond-repair thong. She’d have to do without it. No great feat for someone in her profession.
Retrieving her clutch purse and fishing inside it for her cell phone, she pressed speed dial to put a call through to her agency, requesting immediate pickup. Disconnecting, she took one last look around the room, trying not to think too hard about the glorious sex that had occurred here such a short time ago.
Trying hard not to think about the man she couldn’t see anymore.
Breath shuddered from her lungs. Damn. How quickly things could change.
She dropped the cell back into her purse at about the same time she saw the square foil packages peeking out at her. She put a hand to her mouth. For the first time since she’d become a call girl, she hadn’t given a thought to using a condom.
Her mouth pulled tight. Of course, being on the pill meant pregnancy was no cause for concern. But disease was always a risk, always a factor, no matter that she now only kept a handful of select clients.
Fool!
Her heart twisted, leaving a sick feeling in her belly. It was yet another reason she had to put a stop to seeing Blaine. No amount of money and amazing sex was worth sacrificing everything she’d worked so damn hard to build.
It really was time to leave. Permanently.
Chapter Three
‡
Kate sucked in deep breaths even as she increased her pace on the treadmill, enjoying the rush of adrenaline and fatigue. Sweat dribbled down her back and stuck her t-shirt to her torso and her tiny, lycra shorts to her butt.
“Wow, Kate. You’re really working off some steam.”
She turned to her friend and fellow VIP Agency call girl, and managed a smile. All the girls used their real names when out in public—they had to if they wanted to keep their occupations secret. Working names were reserved exclusively for clients. “You know me too well.”
Claire Davis—Scarlet—pushed back a lock of her flame-red hair that had escaped its high ponytail, then smiled a secret smile as she stepped onto the treadmill next to Kate’s. “So I should, after all our gym sessions and lunches with the girls.”
Kate nodded. It was odd how her once so-called friendships at school had quickly petered out, while a handful of the VIP escorts had become her closest friends. It was like a secret club, where the seriousness of their profession was left behind with weekly lunches and the occasional shopping sprees.
Claire was the only other woman from the agency who loved the gym as much as Kate did. Kate had also recently discovered that Claire was the only other woman who’d fallen for a client. The gorgeous redhead constantly struggled not to crack under the pretense that she was fine.
It was yet another reason Kate was determined not to give into the desire to be with Blaine. Not just because it went against their agency’s rules. A wealthy man and an escort might make a viable bedroom partnership short-term, but from what she’d seen, anything more just wasn’t emotionally healthy or sustainable.
The situation between Claire and her once regular client, Mackenzie, was exacerbated by the fact that Kate had unwittingly taken him on as a regular. But Claire had insisted that Kate not cancel the arrangement she had with Mackenzie; insisted that business was business…as long as things never got personal.
Kate had relented. If she had crossed Mackenzie off her exclusive list, he would have found someone else. And in her and Claire’s line of work, personal feelings had to be pulverized under a very sharp heel.
Claire began to do a slow, warm-up jog beside Kate, her stride effortless and graceful, and revealing a love of fitness and running. “Want to talk about it?”
Ignoring her screaming muscles, Kate managed to smile at the gorgeous woman in her cheetah-print sports top and a pair of black spandex leggings. Claire had the slender, toned body of an athlete, and turned heads wherever she went. Any man would be crazy not to return her feelings. “It’s a…client.”
If anyone could relate, it was Claire.
The redhead jerked her attention back to Kate, then asked sharply, “Who?”
Kate swiped a damp hand over her face, ignoring the sharp twist of hurt in her belly. “Don’t worry, it’s not Mackenzie.”
Claire grimaced. “Sorry…I didn’t mean…what I’m saying is…I know I can trust you.”
A trust that was entirely limited to Kate and Mackenzie’s intimacy being a purely professional transaction.
Kate withheld a sigh. “It’s okay. I know you’re not thinking straight right now.”
Claire nodded. “Yeah, you’ve got that right.” She jabbed a button on the treadmill and picked up the pace. “So what is it with your client?” Concern tightened her mouth and sharpened her tone. “He’s not forcing you to do anything you don’t want to, is he?”
Kate might have laughed if the subject matter wasn’t so serious. “Not even close. In fact, he’s a respectful and attentive lover.”
“And?”
“And I’m worried he’s starting to get too… attached.”
More likely obsessed, but Claire didn’t need to know all the details. It was just a relief to talk to someone else about it.
“Ah.” The redhead sent her a considering look. “It happens. We’re paid to be every man’s fantasy. They only see us perfectly dressed and groomed, not to mention beyond willing to please them in the bedroom.”
Kate tried not to let her emotions influence the stark truth. “Guess we’re not the wives or girlfriends with tangled hair and bleary eyes from lack of sleep.”
Claire snorted, sounding tired and jaded. “Oh, we might be childless, but we still get the bags under our eyes after a night servicing a man’s every whim.”
Kate turned to the other woman. Out of the handful of her call-girl friends, Claire was probably the most skilled at concealing her innermost emotions. Something was definitely up. “Enough about me. Are you okay?”
Claire sighed. “Sorry, I’m fine. I’m just having one of those days.”
“You’re still missing Mackenzie?” Kate asked softly.
Claire nodded. “Yeah, I really am.” She swiped a piece of her bright-colored hair from her brow. “So…when is your next booking with Mackenzie?”
Oh, shit.
“Tonight.”
Claire’s already alabaster skin paled even further. But she managed to keep an even tone when she said softly, “He thinks I don’t have feelings for him.”
Kate almost lost her rhythm, and she slowed the machine to allow her heart rate and breathing to settl
e as she cooled down. “Why would he think that?”
The other woman shrugged. “Because that’s what I told him.” She turned shimmering green eyes Kate’s way. “Because I didn’t want him to know the truth and have him use it against me.”
*
Kate left the gym with sweat still hovering on her brow and every muscle hurting. She’d never been one to do things by halves, but she’d pushed herself hard today, harder than ever before.
But like it or not, nothing could stop the constant thoughts about Blaine. She simply had to weather the storm until such time as his desire for her blew over. Her belly cramped at the thought of him giving up on her, or worse, finding someone else just like Mackenzie had with Claire.
No, she had to instead focus on everyday tasks, like keeping herself in tip-top shape. Stamina and an amazing body were prerequisites if she wanted to continue in the escort business. And then, when the time came for her to leave, she’d retire a wealthy, fit and still-young woman with money invested in various nest eggs. She’d be self-sufficient for the rest of her years.
By then, whatever connection she and Blaine had developed, would be long forgotten…a distant memory.
Yeah, right.
She’d half expected him to show up at her apartment that morning, not that she’d ever told him the address. But since he’d learned her name, it stood to reason he would also know where she lived. She frowned. As a call girl, her privacy was nonnegotiable, to be guarded at all costs.
All her clients knew and respected it.
Until now.
So why had something inside her shriveled a little when Blaine hadn’t shown? When he hadn’t even rung the agency to leave her a message?
Hell, he probably had her cell phone number anyway. He would have rung her direct.
She started when her cell phone abruptly chimed. Fishing through her gym bag, she dug it out. Disappointment bit deep at seeing the ID on her cell. Maisey, the woman who ran the VIP Agency with an iron fist.
“Brandy,” she answered, deliberately going into character and cycling her real name to the back of her mind.